


Fantasy

by quicksparrows



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Female Solo, Masturbation, Other, Public Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 09:49:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2846654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksparrows/pseuds/quicksparrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cordelia finds some solitude in the woods and imagines how Chrom would touch her if her feelings were returned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fantasy

Sumia and Chrom will end up together. Cordelia can see that, and for every bit of joy she feels in watching her best friend fall in love, another part of her feels a smidgen of envy.

She'll never have a love like that with Chrom.

It's not that she has much of an emotional connection to him, let alone a romantic one –– after all, the two hardly speak outside of a professional capacity, and Cordelia has long recognized her feelings as being fruitless. 

A lifetime ago, she could have worn herself ragged with thoughts about him, imagining out an entire fantasy life where they were together and happy, in some distant universe where he loved her as much as she loved him, but things had never turned out that way. The space between her reality and that fantasy was impassable.

The only thing to do had been to accept it and move on best as possible.

Still... a girl can still fantasize.

Leant up against a tree some distance from the camp, surrounded by nothing but trees and the solitude of the woods, fantasizing is exactly what she does. Out here, it's easier to unwind: there's privacy and peace. 

He'd touched her earlier that day, when she'd been unhorsed in the midst of battle. It had been somewhat embarrassing at the time, as a seasoned soldier with too many years of experience under her belt to justify the mistake, but her embarrassment had vanished when Chrom had reached her first and helped her to her feet before her mount had even managed to return to her.

In helping her to her feet, he'd taken not only her hand, but put an arm around her back.

It's terribly schoolgirlish, but it's one of the few times he has ever touched her.

Cordelia lets her mind wander.

Here's how the fantasy goes:

Cordelia is one of the most talented women in her nation. Not only is she in the possession of a long, lean body and strong legs, but she also has enviable red hair and incredible dextrous fingers. Her skill on the battlefield is unchallenged, and she stops at nothing to succeed. 

Chrom admires these qualities, as well as her indomitable nature: he is a man with many friends and many admirers, but he has never met a woman quite like her, and for that reason he has chosen _her._

_Cordelia._

And even if they never court or wed or bear children together, if they were just to couple once, it would be a momentous event.

Cordelia imagines it then: Chrom stripping slowly, his cape falling to the ground with the release of one buckle, his sword belts dropping with the quiet metallic _clink_ of the buckles unlacing. She watches him unbutton his tunic and pull it away from his body slow enough that she itches to just tear it off him, but she bides her time with watching inch by inch of smooth skin appear. He's slender but athletic, and the stretch of his abs is mesmerizing as he brings his arms back to shuck off the shirt entirely. The sculpted cradle of his pelvis peeks out over the top of his pants.

She wants to run her tongue over every inch of him.

She imagines he pauses there to undress her: hands drifting down her sides, appreciating the roundness of her hips and the firmness of her ass. He hitches her skirt up to get a thumb over the top of her riding shorts, and god, they're so tight that he has to undo her fly to slide a hand into the front of her panties.

Cordelia is already growing wet, of course. She slides a finger and then two in-between her pussy lips and tilts her head back far enough to lean fully against the tree trunk along her spine. She imagines that is Chrom's firm body behind her, and her own arms are his, stroking her slow and gentle. His chin could almost be rested on her shoulder, mouth inches from her ears. 

He'd whisper: "I've always wanted you."

"His" fingers find her clit and press against it gentle but firm. Cordelia purses her lips, breathing sharply in through her nose, and her eyes flutter closed. Chrom would be starting to breathe heavily, too, anticipating having her. Cordelia would bump back against him, ass against his dick, pinned there by his grip on her. At some point he'd work her shorts down over her hips entirely, panties along with them, so the rumbled hem of her dress could be the only thing separating them. (His pants came off at some point, too.)

And Chrom would say: "What do you want me to do to you?"

And she'd say: "Fuck me, Chrom."

"Uhh," Chrom replies.

For a second Cordelia keeps stroking herself, but then she abruptly stops, opening her eyes.

There's Chrom, bright red in the face, looking like he wished he hadn't said anything and standing perhaps five yards away. He's carrying a little trowel and a roll of toilet paper, and there Cordelia is, backed up against a tree with her bottoms around her thighs, furiously rubbing herself.

He seems to abruptly realize what is going on, and he turns on his heel sharply.

"Sorry," he says, "sorry, I didn't realize ––"

Cordelia can't even speak. She just pulls her hands out of her panties like she's been burned, and she scrambles to pull up her shorts, but they just tangle with her underwear. She spends a few seconds trying to sort herself out, and they feel like an eternity. By time she looks up, he's walking away as swiftly as he can through the underbrush.

"I'm sorry," she calls out after him, finally, and she takes a few steps towards where he'd been. "My lord, I, uh... did I say that out loud?!"

But he's gone.

After that, they don't speak for months, but Chrom turns as red as Cordelia's dress every single time they make eye-contact.


End file.
